


Won't Be Going There Again

by geiszlercore



Series: Prompts [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale has had enough of snake Crowley scaring customers, M/M, POV of shopper, Snake Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 05:28:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19311574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geiszlercore/pseuds/geiszlercore
Summary: A customer visits Aziraphale's bookshop. They just want to buy a book, but they get a lot more than what your average human shopper bargains for. After all, it's not common for your average shop owner to have a huge snake in the back room. Let alone one they talk to..?





	Won't Be Going There Again

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked on Tumblr: "A (soon to no longer be) customer in Aziraphale's shop overhearing a conversation between the shop owner and his (apparently) pet snake, who he is (apparently?) taking his frustrations with his boyfriend(?) 'Crowley' out on."
> 
> follow me / send me prompts on tumblr!  
> https://ziratonin.tumblr.com

They had been eyeing up the dusty looking bookshop for weeks, and so on one day when they weren’t very busy they decided to call in for a browse.   
This was a mistake they would later regret. 

A little shop bell sounded above the door as they walked in, pretty standard for local businesses, but comforting all the same. The shop had that standard old book smell that they loved, with a hint of some sort of cologne, and something a bit… Well, the only way they could describe it was “smoky”, but someone who owned this many books wouldn’t burn any, that would be scandalous of a book owner. 

As they browsed the Gothic fiction section, they heard a very proper-sounding voice coming from a back room. Obviously, they assumed, it was the owner chatting to somebody. They’d picked up an extremely old looking, but also somehow pristine at the same time, copy of  _The Picture of Dorian Gray.,_ which they had been meaning to read for quite some time now. This particular  _The Picture of Dorian Gray_  was a first edition, and was signed in the front cover by Mr. Wilde himself. Sadly, the shopper never opened the cover, and therefore just thought it was your average  _The Picture of Dorian Gray_. Quite a shame.

As they neared the back room to find the owner, his voice became clearer.   
“You  _can’t_  just go about terrorising people! Especially customers!” He seemed in some sort of distress, maybe even angry, but his voice was quite posh and high pitched so the anger had less effect than it probably could have had.  
_It’s not nice to think those things about strangers._  They reprimanded themselves.

“Yes, I  _know_. And thank you for trying to help, dear, but I’ve got to at least  _look_  like I want to sell the books.”

They didn’t really want to intrude in case the owner was having a private conversation, but they also really wanted this book. And the owner really should leave personal matters outside of business hours. They noticed the door was left ajar, and peered in, just to survey the situation.

“Honestly! You really can be quite difficult to talk to like this, Crowley.”

What they saw they couldn’t quite believe.  
The owner was alone, or, at least, not in human company. A large snake sat upon the desk, staring intently at the blonde man, it’s tongue flicking out every now and then, usually followed by a “Now don’t you hiss at me dear boy.” which was almost as jarring as the sight of the snake itself. It almost looked like it was frowning, but snakes don’t frown. Do they? It’s eyes were bright yellow and it’s scales were dark, almost reddish. They stood, transfixed by the events unfolding before them.  
This was not their average London bookshop.

“Listen, Crowley, I do love you dearly, so very much. But I also love my shop! It’s important to me. You know how long I’ve been collecting.

The snake hissed, which actually meant.  _“Collecting. Hoarding. Whatever they call it these days.”_

 _“_ There’s absolutely no need to be condescending, dear boy. I’m not a hoarder!”

Another hiss, which to the angel meant “Then why do you refuse to sell them?” The shopper, however, simply heard a hiss. 

“Those books are priceless! Do you know how many signed first editions I have? I can’t simply  _sell_  items so dear to me!”

The shopper looked down at the copy they were holding, frowning.  _Obviously not._  They thought.  _Who would have a signed Oscar Wilde book? He must be talking about his private collection…Talking about his private collection with… His pet snake?_    
The same pet snake that the shopper had come to assume was named “Crowley”.

“Darling, I refuse to discuss this! I need customers to stay under the radar. You can’t scare people like that, I’m putting my foot down on it. Why aren’t you… Why are you like  _this_  today anyway?”

The man gestured vaguely around the reptile as it moved it’s head from side to side. This gesture took context to be interpreted, context that the shopper did not have. To them it said “Why are you acting so funny today?” (Excluding the oddness of the fact this was a conversation with a  _snake_ , which they’d started to get used to, amongst the other general shocks.)

The gesture actually meant in the literal sense, “Why are a snake today, Crowley? And why aren’t you in your human form when we are having a serious conversation?”  
The shopper didn’t catch that bit. 

“You’re tired? God! We don’t even need to sleep, Crowley! And even so, when I’m tired I don’t turn into  _my_  celestial being.”  
_Hiss_  
“Because it’s unprofessional! And it would frighten customers! I will always love you as my partner in life. But if you’re going to take being my partner in business too, then all I ask is that you take it seriously!”  
  
“Partner in life?!” The shopper had been so shocked by the owner’s words that they didn’t have time to stop their shock from escaping their lips. 

There was a somewhat scarring moment where the snake locked eyes with them, then shot across the room out of sight. The blonde man appeared quickly to obscure their view, he was very clearly blushing. He looked a bit sweaty.

Oh! Good afternoon, so sorry to have kept you, were you waiting there long?”

“Um. No. Not that long. It’s okay.” they lied. 

The man was wearing a very old-fashioned light coloured suit, and his eyes were eerily blue. Almost electric in their saturation. 

Another man suddenly appeared from behind the door, in the same direction the snake had gone. He had very red hair, sitting in neat waves just brushing his shoulders, and was wearing all black, even up to his sunglasses.  
The two were quite an odd pair.   
_This is who he must’ve been talking to!_  The shopper thought, relieved.  _Obviously not the snake, stupid._

The blonde man, who was slightly shorter, looked down and saw the book in the shopper’s hand, and lightly but quickly took it. “Oh! Were you planning to purchase this?”

“Um. Yeah. I’ve been meaning to read it for a while and thought this copy looked nice, so-”

“Yes, yes! It is a lovely copy. Possibly my best, you have a good eye.” The man looked slightly pained as he walked out of the room. His partner following shortly after. The shopper took a quick glance back into the room, and there was no snake to be seen.  
“ _Weird.”_ They thought.

“Yeah, it’ss a good read, that one.” The lanky redhead smiled. He had a bit of a lisp. He received an inquisitive look from the smaller man, which was returned with a shrug. The shopper understood nothing of this exchange.

“So. If you just come over to the till, we can talk price.” The blond one led to way to a old desk that had a small till placed on top.

“Ooh. You might have to haggle a bit. He lovesss his Ossscar Wildesss.”   
_Quite a bad lisp then._   They thought, and looked up at the man dressed in black, with a tie hanging very low on his chest. They watched his mouth as he spoke.

His tongue was, without a doubt, forked.  
And thin.  
Like a snake.

They suddenly turned a sickly shade of pale, and they swore they could see a mischievous yellow glint behind those sunglasses.  
“Uh,” They started, only just being able to take their eyes of the taller man, to turn and look at the blonde, who seemed extremely uncomfortable, like he was suppressing something.    
They feigned looking at their watch, which was not actually on their wrist. They hadn’t owned a watch since they were 13. “Actually, I’m late for an interview. So I’ve got to get to work.”

The blonde frowned, “Oh. Right, well, what a shame. I hope-”

They had already started to rush out. “Thanks anyway!” they quickly said.

As they turned and ran (while trying to look like they weren’t running at all), they heard the posh-voice get higher in pitch.

“You’ve done it again, you scoundrel! That’s the third person you’ve sent off!”

“Not everyone can be as keen on snakes are you are I’m afraid, love. Anyway, I know that Wilde’s your favourite.”

“Oh!!” He started, but then his voice softened, “Oh…  _Oh, Crowley_   _you little-_ ”

The door closed behind them and they took a few sharp breaths. They looked behind them, daring to stare back into the window, to see the man who was scarily also named Crowley, being dragged back by his hand into the room they were in before.  
He had a silly grin across his face.  
He locked eyes with them, tilted down his glasses, and winked.

They took up their run again, and they made a point to avoid this area of London for the foreseeable future.


End file.
